


doing things that lovers do

by dingletragedy



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Five Times, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-15 03:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19602370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dingletragedy/pseuds/dingletragedy
Summary: four times ben kisses callum's cheek, and the one time callum surprises ben.





	doing things that lovers do

**Author's Note:**

> hello it's me again, i just HAD to write this after last nights ep! 
> 
> title from: toothpaste kisses - the maccabees

1.

Ben closes his eyes against the back of his little speech, exhales, and imagines all the tension leaving him in the same breath. It’s an unfamiliar kind of tension that settles in the plane of his back. It’s not one rooted in uncertainty or fear, but rather hope. Hope and _desire._

He cups at Callum’s cheek again _(as if his hand belongs there - and maybe it does),_ holding him in place with a touch that’s barely there. Callum’s pulse is racing against his fingers, skin hot, and he’s nervous too - he’s got to be - because this feels monumental.

Ben leans up then, toes stretching against the soles of his trainers, and he kisses Callum’s cheek softly, as gently as he can. It’s nothing more than a press of lips on soft skin.

It’s worlds away from their first kiss; one that brings memories of only passion and heat. Of desperation and longing. Of finally getting what you’ve so desperately ached for so long. 

But this kiss he places on Callum’s cheek is tender. There’s no ulterior motive behind it - and for once, Ben isn’t doing it for his own gain. This kiss screams: _I’m here for you._

When Ben dares to pull away, to meet Callum eyes once again, they’re glossy. But he’s smiling, a shy and private curl of lips, and it brings Ben a sense of pride. A sense of achievement. 

It doesn’t stop his fingers trembling, though, where they’re tucked around Ben’s palm. The movement makes Ben pull away, letting his hand slip from Callum’s. The distances leaves a chill seeping this bones at his own departure.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Callum.” Ben says, echoing his earlier words, before turning away from Callum and making his way home.

  
  
  
  
  


They’re both so caught up in this little bubble they’ve created that neither notice the pair of eyes burning into their stance.

2.

Ben comes to slowly, gasping for breath. There's heat, wet and relentless around his dick and it takes him a minute _or seven_ to calm his heart rate. 

“Fucking hell,” Ben breathes. It’s another way of saying: _you’re so fucking good._

Callum lifts off Ben then, plants a hand in the middle of Ben’s chest to push him back down onto soft sheets. The look in Callum’s eyes is nearly enough to have Ben considering round two, already.

But then Callum places his hand over Ben’s heart - holds it there as it beats; taps along to the rhythm with his capable fingers - _once, twice, three times_. 

And Ben softens; melts, looking up at this beautiful, scared boy who’d somehow stumbled into his life when he least expected it. It feels like he’s known Callum forever - not only a mere few months, with the way he’s made Ben question everything he thought he ever knew. 

In this moment, Callum’s touch feels familiar, as if this isn’t the first time they’ve fallen into bed together. _(He supposes it’s not, technically, but there’s a stark contrast between and children’s playground and an above budget hotel room)._ Callum knows exactly how to kiss Ben just the way he likes, knows exactly where to put his hands to drive Ben crazy, knows the exact path to his heart, too. 

Ben hasn’t been like this with anyone in years. 

He’s not sure anyone has ever left trails of fire all over his skin like this before.

And it feels so good, so new, and so practiced, all at the same time

Callum draws his assault on Ben’s bare chest to a close then, bringing their faces levels once more. They’re both panting still; exhausted and blissfully fucked out, and Ben can’t think of a single place he’d rather be. 

He tells Callum so, which earns him a shy, private curl of lips. 

“That was-” Callum says, mouthing at Ben's neck. Smile growing wider by the second. 

Ben breathes through the hummingbird-fast rise and fall of his chest. He puts one hand up on Callum's shoulder blade, leaves the other one on his face, running over his cheek in barely-there strokes.

He brings Callum’s face impossibly close, warm breathes caught up in each other. 

“Yeah. It really was,” Ben replies against his lips, unable to focus on anything else for long enough to speak properly.

The kiss he plants on Callum’s warm cheek comes almost as naturally as his slowing heartbeat. 

3.

It’s a Wednesday morning in August, stupidly early, sky turning orange at the edges as the sun wakes up. But Ben had wanted to catch Callum before Jay arrived at work - and he knew there was no chance of Jay leaving his bed whilst the birds were still chirping. 

He’d heard what had happened last night, gossip filtering through the square quicker than the sun. It’d come from Jay, which makes Ben wonder, for a second, if Jay knows more than he lets on. But that’s an issue for another time. 

Jonno had turned up, again. He was drunk, of course, spouting harsh words and even harsher punches. Ben wonders if Stuart told Jonno about what he saw, he hoped Callum’s brother wasn’t so malicious, but he always has been unpredictable. 

“How are you?” Ben asks when he enters the office. Callum looks exhausted in the new light of the morning, dark bruises under his eyes and a web of creases fading on his cheek from what must’ve been a restless night. 

Callum hesitates, a small whimper sounding comes from over his side of the desk, but nothing more. 

Ben suddenly can’t stand the space between them, and he probs himself up from where he was leaning against the door way, to move to where Callum’s seated. 

“He’s still my Dad, you know? I know he’s not worth it - I do, but I spent so long doing everything in my power to make him proud, “Callum says, and on the exhale, he adds: “I guess I just thought one day, it would be enough.”

“I know,” Ben tells him gently, rubs a thumb against his cheek. He’s trying to keep a lid on his feelings, the sadness gnawing at his gut. Callum is only a little hesitant when he leans into Ben’s touch, eyes flickering shut on impulse - and that’s something, at least.

Callum’s eyes snap open after a beat, _two_ , and they’re shining with tears threatening to spill. _They do._

Ben feels something in his chest shatter at the expression on Callum’s face; it’s one he’s seen reflected on his own many times before (before he was confident, comfortable, **_proud_ **.) He stumbles further forward, almost crashing into Callum, his fingers continue brushing Callum’s cheek, his jaw. “I’ve got you.” 

His cheeks are still pale, though, his eyes the slightest shade of red. Ben finds himself wishing he could fix it somehow, until he realises he can.

“It’s okay,” Ben tells him, presses a kiss to Callum’s cheek; lips touching the salty tears that have fallen there. Ben drags strength from somewhere deep, somewhere where there’s enough for the both of them, and lets it settle around them. He covers Callum’s hand then, their fingers slotting together feels like coming home, and tells him: “It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.”

He pulls away from the embrace, only to press two more kisses either of Callum’s cheeks. 

Ben just hopes it’s enough. 

4.

Whitney’s away for the weekend with Tiffany, wedding dress shopping or something like that, and Ben’s not sure why they need to go up to Manchester for that. But he supposes he’s in no position to judge, considering he’s sleeping with her fiance, and all that. 

So here he is, Saturday night, sat opposite Callum at this small rickety table in their flat. There’s an off-white cloth covering the surface and an orange glow filling the room, courtesy of the too-sweet candle burning on the table. Ben’s tempted to make a snarky comment, nearly does, but something in his heart twitches and he closes his mouth. 

Callum is wittering on about some arsey punter who caused a scene on his shift today – Ben isn't entirely sure, he tuned out a while ago. His attention is focused elsewhere; on how relaxed Callum has become. There's a light there now, in his eyes, that’s usually blocked by fear. 

He briefly wonders how many people have been lucky enough to see this side of Callum, or even bothered to pay attention.

Selfishly, he hopes it’s not many. 

They’re sharing small, secretive smiles, nothing more than the corners of their lips turned up, as they eat. Then it’s hesitant touches; Callum’s fingers brushing against Ben’s as they both reach for the salt, Ben’s foot bashing against Callum’s calf. 

“This is amazing,” Ben says eventually, moaning around his fork. Callum sips on his beer and Ben spots the relief flooding his face, feeling the warmth inside his own chest grow more and more intense.

He looks gorgeous in the candlelight, Callum does; soft and angular all at the same time where the flames flicker and throw shadows. 

The meal **_is_ ** delicious, it’s not quite on par with Ian’s cooking but it’s more Ben’s style; steak, chips and a beer. 

They finish up at almost the same time, both plates clear of any scraps. “Everything alright?” Callum asks once they’ve both finished eating, just looking at each other over the rims of their glasses.

“Great,” Ben answers. “I’d like to compliment the chef.”

“Idiot,” Callum mumbles, with little sparks of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I don’t wanna hear you slagging off my cooking ever again after that,” Callum laughs. He raises his can to his lips then, tipping the amber liquid into his mouth as a smirk dances behind, but his attention never strays from Ben. 

And, somehow, Ben knows exactly what’s going to happen next.

As if on cue, Callum abandons his cutlery and pushes his plate slightly towards the middle of the small table, before leaning his upper body over. 

It’s his way of asking for a kiss without actually uttering a word, Ben knows this now. But they’ve got all night and Ben is nothing if not a tease. 

And leans over to meet Callum in the middle, eyes locked on lips before he tilts his head at the last second, planting a kiss on Callum’s cheek. 

“Later,” he promises, “these pots aren’t going to wash themselves, are they?” 

\+ 1

“It’s just you and me now, Ben,” Callum says into the silence of Ben’s room, tears glistening his eyes. “For as long as you’ll have me.” 

They fall into bed without a word, familiar crisp sheets that smell of Ben’s own peppermint shampoo and the lingering scent of a smell that is indistinguishable but entirely Callum’s own. 

“C’mere,” Ben says softly, reaching out to curl his fingers around Callum’s bicep. He pulls him closer, just slightly, watches as Callum’s eyes flutter shut.

And Ben curls around Callum’s bigger body protectively. 

Ben would be a liar if he said he wasn't at least a little bit into Callum being taller than him.  
  
It's not even like it's a stark difference, he's not craning his neck every time they kiss or anything. But sometimes, like now, when he slots into Callum’s side, fits under his arm almost protectively, well these times, he likes the difference. 

It goes without saying that they’ve been closer than this. Physically, they’ve been as close as can be. But here, sitting beside each other with thighs brushing and Callum’s arm resting over Ben’s shoulders - it feels the most intimate they’ve been.

Ben feels like he’s tiptoeing dangerously close to the edge of _that_ four letter word. 

Ben’s too caught up in his thoughts that he misses the look passing Callum’s face. It’s one of endearment, one Ben isn’t all that used to seeing. 

Whatever is it that’s running through Callum’s mind prompts him to loosens his hold over Ben’s shoulder, trailing his hands down Ben’s bare arm before linking their fingers together, loosely. 

“What you holding my hand for? Ya softie.”

“Because.” Callum shrugs, more casual that Ben’s ever seen him. “Because - I love ya.” 

_Shit._

Ben tries his best to look less dazed than he feels - as if he wasn’t just spelling out those three words in his mind. 

“You love me?” Ben questions, his voice playful, but a little hesitant. 

“Might do.”

_Callum loves him._

Feeling warm all the way to his core, Ben laughs. “Well then, I might just love you too.” 

“Really?”

_He loves Callum._

“Hm. I love you,” he says into Callum’s ear, laughing a little because hearing the words come out of his own mouth makes him deliriously happy. “I love you I love you I love you I love y-“

“Shut up, idiot,” Callum giggles, and Ben pulls him into proper kiss. It feels different now, with all these things out in the open, with fireworks shooting through Ben’s veins and Callum’s bright, bright smile pressed against his own.

Ben wishes he could take a snapshot of the moment in its entirety – of the way his stomach flutters, and the shock of breath against his cheek when Callum breaks into giggles.

But then, he realises as he opens his eyes, he doesn’t need a snapshot to remember what being with Callum is like.

_He gets his now, Forever. Just him and Ben and no fiancés or wives._

Callum looks back down at Ben’s mouth as the pull apart, and looks like he’s going to lean in for another kiss. But he must change his mind and presses his lips to Ben’s cheek instead.

_I could get used to this,_ Ben thinks. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @dingletragedy on tumblr - come chat! X


End file.
